


Miku Miku Mii

by tisapear



Series: bane of his existence [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu and his non-existent sense of direction, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Me and the art of writing niche things no one but me wants to see, Post-Time Skip, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisapear/pseuds/tisapear
Summary: Osamu refrains from pointing out that between the baseball cap and face mask, no one's gonna recognize his stupid face, because he's already tried that for the past hour and a half and it just made Atsumu evenmoreantsy, constantly readjusting the cap and playing with the straps of his mask, eyes nervously fluttering around like someone's gonna pull out a giant sign announcing 'Here stands Miya Atsumu, your local closet weeb and Osamu's personal bane of existence.'Atsumu's a vocaloid fan but embarrassed about anyone finding out. That doesn't stop him from dragging Osamu to Niconico Chokaigi 2018, but it does mean he's insufferable about 'putting on disguises' and 'not getting recognized by anyone, gee 'Samu, my image would be ruinedforever." Like he has one to begin with.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu
Series: bane of his existence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045332
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Miku Miku Mii

"I can't see shit, 'Tsumu." 

Atsumu smacks him with one of his glow sticks, then pointedly pushes the brim of Osamu's baseball cap he's been trying to nudge up the tiniest bit back down. "Don't ya dare! If they see ya, I'm busted, too." 

Osamu refrains from pointing out that between the baseball cap and face mask, no one's gonna recognize his stupid face, because he's already tried that for the past hour and a half and it just made Atsumu even _more_ antsy, constantly readjusting the cap and playing with the straps of his mask, eyes nervously darting around like someone's gonna pull out a giant sign announcing 'Here stands Miya Atsumu, your local closet weeb and Osamu's personal bane of existence.'

He can't believe Atsumu actually talked him into this. 

Well, his twin _does_ have one hell of a mouth on him.

(Albeit not much talking was done during Atsumu's, at that time _very convincing_ , presentation of his... persuasive skills.)

He's looking his twin over and weighing the pros and cons of a bathroom quickie (pro, getting his hands on Atsumu and having him shut up for once since he wouldn't want anyone to hear him; con, if they miss even a second of the concert Atsumu won't let him hear the end of it for _months_ ) when Atsumu grabs his upper arm and starts shaking him like a rag doll. "It's startin', shit, 'Samu, this is _so freakin' cool._ "

Eyes wide and delighted like they're usually only ever on the court, tousled strands of hair peeking out under his cap, and Osamu smiles, assured by the knowledge that Atsumu won't see it thanks to the mask and dimmed lights. 

Asshole's lucky Osamu's so gone on him or he'd have sold him for a rice grain ages ago. 

(Also, the mean-looking Juliet Starling over there that almost whacked him with her prop chainsaw earlier better not be judging him. What, never seen a guy be completely star-struck over his own twin? Sheesh, people these days.)

* * *

It's when the fifth Zero Two in the past fifteen minutes walks past them that Osamu stops trying to keep up with Atsumu's excited babbling. 

"'N when she appeared dressed up as Superman, almost pissed myself, that was sooo badass—" 

It's not like Osamu doesn't _want_ to listen to Atsumu talk, always unusually cute when it's something he's so invested in, but. 

"—really thought they were gonna sing Lost One's Weeping for a sec there—" 

Osamu really doesn't want to listen to him. 

"—swear, almost started bawling when they all popped up on stage together for that last song—" 

Atsumu's always been a tactile person, especially when he's animated about something. Talks with his entire body, hands gesturing wildly, pulls on Osamu's arm when he (rightfully) believes his twin's not listening, and is rather draped over Osamu than not.

"—when I walked in on Bokkun and Hina-tan and Omi-kun going at it like animals in the locker room, like, _gee_ , Omi-kun even had his mask pulled down his nose, can ya _believe_ that spicy R21 shit—"

He wishes he could capture this Atsumu—filled to the brim with happiness, without the accompanying strive for _more_ volleyball always brings—in a bottle and put it on a shelf, just look at it whenever he wants to because, yeah. Yeah, that's his 'Tsumu right there, and life really would suck without him, wouldn't it. 

"—almost said yes when they asked me ta join 'em, not gonna lie."

Osamu stops. Only realizes Atsumu got his pinky hooked around his own when it's the only thing holding Atsumu back from walking on. His twin gives him a questioning look, a casual, "Hmm?" that wouldn't melt butter. 

"What didja just say?" 

"'Parently Ushiwaka just got engaged to his long-term indie singer boyfriend?" 

That's, well. Congratulations are in order, he supposes. (Not that he really cares, but good for the guy. He always seemed a little on the uptight side, so it's good to know there's someone out there at least attempting to pull the stick outta his ass.) 

"After that."

"Oooooh." Atsumu bonks his head like he's a cute anime girl, can't believe she's _this_ clumsy, oh dear. (He totally got that one from Ace Attorney.) "When I got invited to a foursome, ya mean!"

Yeah. _That._

Atsumu innocently whips back and forth on the balls of his feet like he didn't just talk about his teammates propositioning him. 

"I mean," he shrugs, like it's no big deal, "between three guys, one of 'em might actually end up _listenin'_ ta me, know what I mean?"

Osamu hums and acts like he's really thinking it over, then says, like it's a great conclusion he's reached after several hours of careful contemplation, "Ya really think ya'd find a sympathetic partner in: Bokuto, the guy that doesn't even listen to himself talk; Hinata, the guy that's got bigger volleyball brainrot than even you;  
and Sakusa, the guy that'd sell you for hand-sized bottle of disinfectant before having to exchange even a single syllable more with ya than he absolutely gotta?"

Atsumu stares at him. Down to their linked pinkies. Back up again. Then, like the big man-child he is, harrumphs and starts walking again. 

"Guess I'm stuck with ya, then," he grumbles, like it's the biggest burden any men could bear. But the pinky around Osamu's own tightens just a bit, and Atsumu's always been full of shit.

* * *

Osamu frowns at the line in front of the stall. Looks back at the dejected form of his twin. Sighs. Resigns himself to his fate. 

"Fine. Since yer so scared, I'll get ya one. Wait here. And don't. _Move._ 'M gonna be right back and I'm in no mood to search around for yer directionally challenged ass if ya get lost."

Atsumu opens his mouth, protest already visible in the twist of his lips, but then seems to change his mind and instead lets out a defeated huff, reluctantly nods with his arms crossed in front of his chest like the big baby he is. 

Ah, so he _does_ remember what happened on Tanabata of their last year of high school. Good.

He flicks the brim of Atsumu's cap before he strides toward the stall, ready to get lost in his Twitter feed until it's finally his turn.

* * *

God, why's this kinda merch so _expensive?_ 1800 yen for a little charm that he could easily lose in the palm of his hand? Sure, the thing's cute, sickeningly adorable with the big eyes and chibi cheeks, really, but _honestly._

Whatever. Might actually get Atsumu to stop complaining for the rest of the night. Wouldn't _that_ be one hell of a way to let the night dwindle down. 

Returning to the spot he left Atsumu in—the now decidely _vacated_ spot—he realizes he shouldn't have talked so soon.

* * *

Okay, so _maybe_ Atsumu should have listened when Osamu told him to stay put. And _maybe_ he should have checked if his phone still had enough battery before they left their apartment, he grudgingly admits as he stares down at the cute wallpaper informing him that his phone is shutting down now. 

Silently cursing the guy with the adorable IA pin on his backpack (he wasn't stalking the guy, honest, he just thought, well, maybe if he followed him for a while, he might mention to one of his companions what stall he got the pin from, and then Atsumu wouldn't have to, like... actually _talk_ to someone and possibly reveal himself), he realizes that Osamu still got _their_ backpack. The backpack containing their power bank _and_ Atsumu's wallet. 

So. Guess plan go home, charge his phone and call Osamu to inevitably get reprimanded for being 'more of a hassle than a goddamn toddler on speed' for a good thiry to nintey minutes is off. 

Of course, Atsumu _could_ just ask someone to lend him their phone. Might come off as a bit of a creep but at least he wouldn't have to wander around the convention grounds until he hopefully runs into his twin.

He looks around nervously, toys with the elastic of his mask.

...............Someone might recognize his voice, and that's just— _no._

No, he'll just try his luck with the whole wandering around thing. They've always had their 'creepy twin connection', so that oughta work in their favor this time, too, right?

* * *

After pacing the convention grounds for what feels like five hours, Atsumu comes to the heartbreaking conclusion that everyone, including himself, has severely overrestimated their oh-so-magical twin connection. 

Sure, the wretched thing works when he's trying to convince Osamu that he _didn't_ steal his last clean pair of underwear after Atsumu ran out of his own because he didn't do the laundry like Osamu asked him to, but when it would actually be useful it doesn't. 

And people call _him_ a petty bitch. 

At least he saw some rad cosplays. (Seriously, that GUMI was a guy? Talk about destroying gender norms.)

Too busy mentally bitching at the gods and their _hilarious_ fondness of irony—ha ha, yeah, leave him out alone in the open with no money, no way of contacting anyone and, of course, no way of getting home at almost midnight, why fucking dontcha—he doesn't notice someone about to barrel into him until it's already too late. 

His assailant lets out a surprised yelp, then scrambles off of him. He groans and holds his pulsing forehead where the other's knocked straight against his own, tries to ignore the frantic, "Oh no, oh no, are you alright? Oh god, you're not dead, are you? My mom will _kill_ me if she finds out I accidently killed someone. Shit, no, first she'll kill me for sneaking out, _then_ she'll kill me for accidently killing someone. Pleasedont'bedead, fuck, please, I still haven't gotten the chance to kiss Miya Ats— "

"Good god, just shut the fu—it's. It's _fine_ , alright, m' head's jus' killin' me." He presses his fingers against his eyelids in hopes of fighting off some of the intense pulsing behind them. _Hey, mom,_ he thinks mournfully, _I finally get what yer meant when ya said teenagers are bullheaded._

"Oh, you're not dead! Corpses don't talk. Ah, well, I mean—technically, they actually do in this one light novel I've started recently, where the main girl's girlfriend dies and comes back as a zombie, but no worries, she doesn't wanna eat any brains, she only hungers for her beloved's heart and—" 

"Stooooop," Atsumu whines, then immediately blanches because fuck, he should just. Stop saying _things_ , someone might recognize his voice.

Wait. Why's his head suddenly so cold? 

Ripping eyes open he frantically searches for his cap. 

"Ah, I'm sorry, my mom always tells me not to bother others with my senseless rambling, but I just—oh, are you looking for this?" 

The girl—that Atsumu now realizes is wearing a hideous looking t-shirt proclaiming **I ❤️ Miku** that Atsumu kind of really digs, actually, maybe he could ask her where she got it from if he's smart about it—picks up his baseball cap and hands it to him. "Here you go!" she chirps cheerfully, and then—gasps. 

Fuck. Goddamn fuckity fuck fuck. 

"Miya Atsumu from the Black Jackals?!" And of course her high-pitched teenage-girl-screeching instantly attracts the attention of the surrounding crowd.

Superb. 

Atsumu can feel his cheeks burn up alongside the rest of his already shriveled up social standing.

"No idea who yer talking about, girly," he denies, hastily puts the cap back onto his head and quickly darts _out_ of there, doesn't look back even when she continues shouting after him, "No, wait, I'm sure it's you, please please come back, I'm your biggest fan!!" 

Shit. _Shit_. Hopefully no one got this on camera or his cool-guy-image is _fucked._

His only saving grace is that Osamu wasn't there to witness any of it. His dick of a brother would have never allowed him to live it down. 

A hand winds around his wrist, pulls him out of the mass of people and oh sweet baby Jesus, don't tell him some pervert's trying to cop a feel on top of everything else.

He finds himself pressed against a solid, _familiar_ body, an amused chuckle pressed into the side of his throat, and he instantly relaxes. 

"Miya Atsumu from the Black Jackals, hm?" 

Nevermind, scratch that bit about relaxing.

He huffs and shoves his twin off. "Screw ya," he says, ever-so-glibly. 

Osamu's grin is unapologetic as he settles his hand back on Atsumu's arm. "If someone had just stayed put _like I told him to..._ " 

Pulling a face, Atsumu makes an indignant noise. "I'm not yer fucking _dog._ "

"Sure looked liked yer were running around like an abandoned pup lookin' for his owner, though. _This ain't funny anymore. 'S all yer fault, 'Samu, bet yer purposefully hidin' from me, arentcha?_ '" 

Atsumu's mouth falls open, then violently clicks closed just as quickly and he bites his lip, knowing full well his ears are turning red 'cause he _did_ say that. 

......................... 

He did fucking say that, _while he was supposedly on his own._

He pushes Osamu back by the shoulder and accuses, "Ya little bitch! So ya really _were_ laughin' at me the whole time!" and stomps on his twin's foot for good measure. Doesn't face Osamu at all, though, too used to Atsumu's quick-to-turn-to-violence outbursts after reaching an all-time high during their teenage years. He just laughs, head thrown back, the line of his throat exposed by the sudden action. 

Atsumu wants to suck a mark above the one he knows is barely hidden by the collar of Osamu's sweater, and he averts his eyes because _no,_ bad Atsumu, we're _angry_ at Osamu, didja already forget about that?

His twin knows him too well, though, knows his thoughts despite not having any facial clues to go off of beyond his eyes, and he curls his hand around Atsumu's neck, pulls him close so they'd be breathing in the same air if it wasn't for the masks. 

(He's careful about Atsumu's bruised forehead, though. Sap.) 

Osamu's voice is soft and his eyes warm as he says, "Reckon we could shove in a quickie in the weeb restroom over there before we gotta leave?" 

His face is still carefully pulled into that caring expression as he points his thumb behind him at said restroom, where someone slapped a life-sized poster of bubbly virtual teenage idol Hatsune Miku on the door.

Atsumu snorts. Pushes his hand into Osamu's face and feels the sly grin even through the layer of cloth, and he's about to agree because, fuck it, he didn't get to look at most of the stalls and other events so they might as well, when—

"MIYA ATSUMU!! _PLEASE!_ Just one teeny-tiny kiss, it doesn't even have to be anything raunchy! I mean, of course some tongue action would be double-triple-super-awesome, but! All is good, really!!" 

Osamu leans slightly to the side so he can peek over Atsumu's shoulder. Then instantly feezes and Atsumu's eyebrows spring up. 

"Uh. I think she's wearin' an **I ❤️ Miya Atsumu** tee now."

Atsumu pales. 

"Shit. _Run._ "

* * *

Atsumu doesn't put the charm on his keys or bag, but he _does_ constantly fiddle around with it in the apartment. So much so that the colors start to fade only a few months after Osamu got him the stupid thing. 

When Osamu points out that Atsumu will inevitably bitch about his precious charm being ruined, he just smirks and says, "Niconico Chokaigi's an annual thing, y'know."

And not even his hand creeping up Osamu's thigh is able to make his words sound less threatening.

**Author's Note:**

> atsumu, age 14, recently got into vocaloid and is now trying to get osamu into his newest obsession: 'n those are the kagamines, they're my fav'rites
> 
> osamu: how so?
> 
> atsumu, pointedly not telling osamu about the array of songs depicting them as siblings _and_ lovers: no particular reason


End file.
